The bay is an inlet into the mountains of Caramania, which surround it on the east and west side. Towards the north, where a cliff about fifty feet high overhangs the bay, the country is level. The port of Satalia is at the foot of the cliff, in the bottom of the bay. The mountains on the western side, which we passed very near, are of considerable height. Their highest ridge was on the top covered with snow. I observed one of those mountains apparently higher than the rest, whose foot touched the sea, on the sides of which the snow was sparingly spread down to one third of the mountain’s height; and this was on the 18th of June. They are all barren; their shape and whole appearance is much the same as that of the African mountains in the Straits of Gibraltar. The town of Satalia is built partly upon the cliff, partly in the plain which the cliff terminates; its gardens extend to about three or four miles along the rocky shore. The town is separated from the port and the few buildings which surround the landing place, by a wall constructed on the top of the cliff; a narrow passage leads from the beach up to the town, the gate of which is regularly shut at sunset. The entrance of the harbour seems to have been defended formerly by two towers, the ruins of which are still extant. The inner harbour is small; a Turkish guard ship, four Arab vessels from Damiat, five or six small country sailing boats, and our own ship, crowded the whole space between the two ruined towers. There is good anchorage in the larger outer bay, but no shelter against the southerly winds. Two fine streams of spring water descend the cliff on both sides of the landing place. As soon as we approached the harbour a Turkish police boat came alongside of us, and the Tripoline immediately went with the officer on shore. After we had come to anchor we were informed that the plague was in the town, and that the watch ship moored near us had two sick on board; and though nobody had died in the town within the last fortnight, yet all the principal Christian and Turkish merchants had left their town houses, and were still living in their gardens. Of course our captain would not allow any body to go on shore, and pressed the Tripoline to return on board; but the latter having already recovered once from the plague, thought himself quite secure from any second attack, and treated the captain’s remonstrances very lightly. He remained four days on shore, trading all the while for his own account, without finding grain to purchase for the ship’s cargo. During that time I went once on shore to see two bullocks killed and weighed, which had been bought for the ship’s company; we purchased besides some other fresh provisions, the whole at very low prices: the two bullocks at fifty-five piastres, fowls at eight paras, or about two-pence halfpenny each; seven eggs for one penny, &c. &c. The Turks laughed much at the captain’s continually warning them off from our persons, (yet it seems that